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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196223">Just A Legacy to Protect</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84'>treefrogie84</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coldest Hits That Weren't [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Monster of the Week, Not A Fix-It, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, past major character death, post 15.20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:54:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester way has always been to hunt when they can't do anything else. Mom dies? Hunt. Dad dies? Hunt. Family, friends, everyone they've ever known? Hunt. Sam reaches for the familiar in the aftermath of Dean's death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Braeden/OMC, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coldest Hits That Weren't [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/918090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just A Legacy to Protect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Graciously beta'd by Noxlee. </p>
<p>The original Coldest Hits prompt for December was "What's Next?", picked back in October, when we still thought things wouldn't be terrible. It got changed approximately 15 minutes after the finale finished, but my brain was already percolating this. If you want a fix-it, go read that instead: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121988">As The Key Turns</a>. Because Sam just lost 3/4 of his family and there's gonna be some grief involved in that, even as he picks himself back up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tyler thanks Lena behind the bar, grabbing his pitcher of (cheap) beer and the pint glasses she passed him and bumping his way back to the table he and Ben had staked out when they arrived. It’s really too late in the semester to be doing this, but he’s fried and Ben is the biggest ball of anxiety he’s ever seen, even more than when he was getting ready to come out to his mom. Tyler shoves the pitcher of beer onto the table, dropping a pair of pint glasses behind it before sliding into the booth across from Ben. “Hey. You agreed to no studying tonight.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I just…” Ben trails off with a sigh before closing his notes and sliding them into his bag. “I’m having trouble understanding what Bradshaw wants for this paper and—”</p>
<p>“And <em>nothing</em>, babe. You need a break. You think I don’t know how little you’re sleeping?” Tyler snorts and pours them both a beer. “One evening won’t kill you.”</p>
<p>Ben doesn’t look convinced, but Bradshaw has been riding his ass about his capstone thesis since last semester. Tyler tries, but he’s not completely following Ben’s argument in the paper— something about the prevalence of changeling narratives in the suburbs— but that also doesn’t really matter when his boyfriend hasn’t slept in a week.</p>
<p>“If I find more case studies—”</p>
<p>“Nope. Drink your beer. Then we’re going to play pool for a while.”</p>
<p>“I really—”</p>
<p>Huffing, Tyler moves so he’s sitting next to Ben, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. “Please. I know you’re stressed out about this, but you <em>need</em> to take a break.” He holds onto Ben’s hand until he finally relents, leaning over and snagging his beer.</p><hr/>
<p>“Another one?” The bartender— Lena, maybe?— asks mildly, like this isn’t the first time she’s asked. He’s busy anyway, pouring over Dad and Dean’s journals, trying to figure out what, exactly, is hunting kids in this town. Four dead bodies in two weeks with more missing. It’s… He doesn’t know what it is. Besides water based, going by where the bodies were found, and hunting the paved path that runs along the bank of the river.</p>
<p>“Just a beer, thanks.” Sam barely looks up, following the trail of a barely alluded to hunt in Dad’s journal to the earliest pages of Dean’s…</p>
<p>And then he stops as he reads the entry, fresh grief overwhelming him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Undine— water nymphs, lore says they have no soul (?) so they acquire one by marrying humans. Human dies if they’re ever unfaithful, humans are <span class="u">always </span>unfaithful.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Found one hunting the coves of Lake Huron. Technically across the border, but whatever. Not hard to slip it. Fifteen dead over three years, twenty-six missing. It’s not just boating accidents, not at that rate. Shouldn’t be that hard to take care of, just a wham-bam.</em>
</p>
<p>And then, in different ink, water smeared, like Dean hadn’t even bothered to dry off before writing it up.</p>
<p>
  <em>Blessed bronze loses its blessing in lake water. Had to drag her out and away from the lake before ganking her. Had to run before the cops showed up, may have sparked a fire with the boat.</em>
</p>
<p>It's so Dean— cocky and self-assured, hiding the cracks of weakness even in his own journal, one nobody else would ever read. It just… hurts.</p>
<p>He’s still staring at the page when one of the college kids comes over, empty pitcher in hand to request a refill.</p>
<p>The thing is, Sam’s had hallucinations before. Lucifer was the worst of them, but not every ghost following him around needed to be salted and burned. So he’s not shocked when he glances over at the kid and it’s like looking at Dean age twenty-two. Worn out jeans and soft flannel, exhausted the way Dean always was. Of course he is, that’s the fashion right now, at least half the guys in this bar are wearing the same thing.</p>
<p>Sam lets out a near silent, choked off noise, his hand closing into a fist over Dean’s journal.</p>
<p>“Hey, man. Are you okay?” The kid doesn’t touch him, but his hand is raised like he wants to.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you uh…” Sam swallows around his grief. “You just look like my brother, s’all. Caught me by surprise. Sorry.”</p>
<p>“It's cool.” He glances over the bar, the bartender taking orders on the other side. “Sorry for your loss.”</p>
<p>Sam swallows again, nodding slightly. His <em>loss</em>, like his very lungs haven’t been ripped out and he’s still learning how to breathe again. Three quarters of his family in the space of a month. Another loss. Always another loss. “It’s, uh… it's fine.”</p>
<p>The kid looks familiar in his own right, not just the ghost of Dean, but he’s never figured out a way to ask about childhood trauma without it being terrible.</p>
<p>Probably nothing.</p>
<p>“Ben! You want another game?” One of the guys over at the pool table calls. “Or should we let Alison and Rita have the table?”</p>
<p>“We can trade,” Ben says. “We’ve been hogging it.”</p>
<p>Ben. Indiana. <em>Oh</em>.</p>
<p>“Hey, kid?” Sam has to try, no matter how awkward. “Do me a favor. Avoid the trail out by the river for a few days.”</p>
<p>“Why? It closed or something?”</p>
<p>“Something like that.” Not at all, but he can keep this part of Dean’s legacy safe. The rest— Claire especially— are hunters and he can’t do anything for them. Ben… doesn't even remember Dean, at least, he’s not supposed to, and there’s no reason to risk messing with suppressed memories or whatever, but this… yeah. This he can make sure of.</p>
<p>Ben’s happy. In school. Has friends (a boyfriend?). Doesn’t look like Lisa has taken a hard turn to the cruel.</p>
<p>Everything Dean never wanted to admit, his kid has. Sam can’t tear that away from him. So all Sam can do is warn him away from the monster’s hunting grounds and try to take care of things as quickly as possible.</p>
<p>The bartender hands Ben a new pitcher of beer and he disappears back to the pool table and darts board.</p>
<p>Looking back at Dean’s notes on a case nearly twenty years ago, he nods, closing up the journals and shoving them back in his bag. Time to get a move on, hunt an undine and try to keep it under wraps.</p>
<p>Catching the bartender’s eye, he closes out his tab. “Hey, add their beer to my tab.”</p>
<p>“You sure about that?”</p>
<p>“It’s a couple pitchers of beer, right? Least I can do after…” waving his hand vaguely, Sam hopes the bartender doesn’t force him to explain further. Somehow, he doesn’t think ‘I’m pretty sure the kid is my nephew, but he doesn’t remember me or my brother and oh god, it hurts so bad to know that my brother will never see this’ is a very good explanation.</p>
<p>“Whatever.”</p>
<p>He signs the receipt, shoves a cash tip into the jar, and leaves.</p>
<p>The losses just keep mounting.</p><hr/>
<p>“Hey, you alright?” Tyler asks, dropping the darts onto the table. “You look… weird.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Ben mutters, turning to catch the guy’s back as he ducks through the door. “Just… Dude at the bar was familiar. I think he knew me too? It’s…” he shakes his head. “Not a big deal. Just caught me off guard, s’all.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s your turn, so give me your beer and see how you do.”</p>
<p>Ben snorts, tugging Tyler into a brief hug. “Just, give me a sec.” He has no idea why he’s this off balance— it’s not the first time he’s seen men he vaguely recognizes— but thinking about it gives him nightmares and he doesn’t have time for that right now.</p>
<p>“Really, what is it?” Tyler whispers in his ear. “You’re…”</p>
<p>Shaking. Yeah. “Just hug me, asshole. I need a minute.”</p>
<p>“Alright, babe. Whatever you need.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t know <em>what </em>he needs, but this is a good start. Something to ward off the overwhelming grief from the guy at the bar. Alison and Rita wrap their arms around him too after a couple moments, all of them relaxing to their hold before breaking up.</p>
<p>And if there’s something still buzzing at the back of his mind as they go back to their games, well, what of it?</p>
<p>Their apartment isn’t that far from the bar— there’s a reason it's their favorite, and not just because of the number of beers on tap— just a short walk along the biking trail and then they’ll be home and he can forget the weird parts of today. Maybe even get some sleep instead of worrying about school.</p>
<p>There’s always a paper due, but the number of evenings spent like this are dwindling.</p>
<p>Letting Tyler shepherd him into bed, Ben starts to doze off quickly but then he wakes back up, the dream as clear as anything.</p>
<p>
  <em>The man drags a step stool closer with his foot, nodding for Ben to step up so he can see. They spend hours bent over the engine of the truck, getting it running perfect. The love and acceptance…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Why won’t you let me hunt with you?” His voice is childish, barely starting to crack with puberty.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re too smart for hunting. You want to save people? Become an EMT or a firefighter. A nurse. Hell, a shrink.” He sighs, and somehow Ben knows that it’s cover for the same grief as the man at the bar. “What I do… it ain’t glamorous, kid. And it’s cost me damn near everything.” He presses his lips together, fighting back whatever he wants to say. “You don’t belong in the gutter, Ben. Listen to your mom.”</em>
</p>
<p>The dream changes.</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s not supposed to see this, he realizes. The man— still faceless— pressed into the corner between the couch and the window, like even the comfort of the couch is too much, a mostly empty bottle dangling from one hand, making himself as small as possible.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ben didn’t think the man could be small.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A broken sob emerges, muffled by time and distance. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ben backs away slowly, retreating to his bedroom, thirst and water forgotten. He’s not a child anymore, but that grief is not for him to see. </em>
</p>
<p>He’s crying, he realizes, harsh sobs like someone he loved died. Carefully, he extracts himself from Tyler’s hold, dropping a kiss onto his forehead before moving to the kitchen.</p>
<p>Mindlessly flipping the kettle on, he stares out the patio door of their tiny student apartment, trying to get a grip on himself. What the fuck is happening to him?</p>
<p><em>Dean</em>, a small voice floats across his mind. He saved you once. The guy at the bar, Sam. Monsters. Except Sam didn’t have a partner at the bar.</p>
<p>Ben doesn’t stop to think. Turning the kettle back off, he tiptoes back into the bedroom, grabbing his jeans and socks. Getting dressed in a rush, he heads towards the biking trail, hurrying along to the section that goes along the river.</p><hr/>
<p>Breathless, Sam stares at the dark sky in a daze. Just a moment, that’s all he needs. Just one, and then he’ll roll back onto his feet and kill the monster and save the day.</p>
<p>The undine lets out a low cry, shuffling closer. Sam takes a deep breath and forces himself back to the fight. Her skin glistens wetly in the moonlight, grayish green and slippery like a wooden dock.</p>
<p>Grabbing for the bronze dagger, he rolls to the side as she tries to pull him off the trail and into the river. Jerking his leg, he pulls her off balance, scrambling to stay on dry land where she’s less powerful.</p>
<p>He’s already gotten too close, heard her whispered promises of peace. It’s a powerful drug, one he’s aching to give in to, but he made his choice back in that barn. When he allowed Dean to…</p>
<p>A Converse clad foot slams into the undine’s temple, knocking her away from Sam.</p>
<p>He rolls to his feet with a grunt, bringing the knife up and shoving it into the undine’s heart.</p>
<p>Sam waits until he’s sure she’s dead before pulling the blade out, wiping it hastily on the waterlogged shift she’s wearing and shoving it back into his pocket before turning back to the bystander who got involved.</p>
<p>Ben.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“Saving your ass, it looks like,” Ben shoots back, glancing around. “Are there any more?”</p>
<p>“Ben…” Sam sighs, shakes his head. “No. And go home, back to your boyfriend and mom. You don’t want to get involved in this.”</p>
<p>“You <em>do </em>know me. I never told you my name.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter. This is dangerous, it already… Go home, Ben. Forget all of this again, shove it down as a dream. Whatever you need to do.”</p>
<p>“What does that… I <em>remember</em> you. And Dean. Why?”</p>
<p>Sam shakes his head, fresh grief rising up to cover him. For the first time, there’s a hint of anger in there too, but he can’t do anything with the anger. It just sits in his chest, nearly suffocating him. “When you were twelve, there was a… hunt. You and your mom got hurt.”</p>
<p>“The car wreck?”</p>
<p>“Something like that, yeah.” Sam sighs. “To protect you, Dean had those memories altered. If you didn’t know us, you wouldn’t be targeted.”</p>
<p>“That’s fucked up.”</p>
<p>“He loved you. He wanted you to be safe. He chose the method that would only hurt him.” Looking around, Sam collapses onto a nearby bench, staring at the sluggishly bleeding scrape on his arm. It’s not bad, won’t require anything more than a shower and a couple of bandaids, but every scrape, bruise, sprain is another instance of him failing. He killed the monster, but…</p>
<p>It just feels like another failure.</p>
<p>Bleakly, he looks up, catching Ben’s eye. “Go home. Forget you met me, us. Live a normal life. That’s what Dean wanted for you and Christ, I hope you get it.”</p>
<p>“That’s not fair.”</p>
<p>Fair. He shakes his head jerkily, pushing himself to his feet. Cas’s truck— he can’t bring himself to drive the Impala, not yet, maybe not ever— is only about a quarter mile away, at the nearest parking lot. Get to the truck, get out of town, find a new hunt. Because that’s what they do when they’re hurting.</p>
<p>No. What<em> he </em>does. <em>He’s</em> hurting. Not them. Ever again.</p>
<p>How the fuck is he ever going to start thinking of himself solo again? He’s been part of a duo for his entire fucking life. Even when they weren’t hunting, even after Dean finally stepped back, allowed Sam space to grow into a leadership role, it was still the two of them. Dean’s always been there.</p>
<p>He’d been looking forward to figuring out how to be individuals and also brothers. Instead, he’s been forced into life on his own with no preparation and no support.</p>
<p>His family is dead. All of them. And he’s staring at a lifetime alone.</p>
<p>Leaning against the truck gate, his phone buzzes in his pocket.</p>
<p><strong>Eileen:</strong> <em>Finished my hunt. Want backup?</em></p>
<p>Or maybe he’s not completely alone. Even if it feels like it.</p>
<p>Sighing again, he looks over at Ben, still standing around with his arms crossed against the cool air. “Dean gave up a lot to make sure his family was safe. Best way to make sure it was worth it is to live well.”</p>
<p>“How—”</p>
<p>Sam huffs, looking into the dark surrounding the parking lot. “An accident. Just… shit luck and…” he trails off, not knowing how to finish it. Because he should have called for help, but he didn’t and now that’s something he’ll carry with him. “Let it go, Ben. Go back to your life. Being safe, that’s the greatest thing he ever wanted for you.”</p>
<p>Ben wants to argue, Sam can see it in the tilt of his head and the way his eyes harden, but then a jaw-cracking yawn escapes and Ben deflates, goes back to the exhausted college kid. “I… Alright. I’ll see you around.” Turning on his heel, he starts to trudge along the parking lot, up the hill.</p>
<p>Sam watches him go, silently, the last attempt any of them ever made to actually have a normal life. Even his year with Amelia… well, it wasn’t the same. It was a lie.</p>
<p>Pulling his phone back out of his pocket, he texts Eileen that he’ll meet her back at the Bunker. And then, biting his lip, he scrolls down to his sporadic conversation with Claire to shoot her a text as well. It’s time she got the rest of her legacy. Dean and Cas might not have been her fathers, but she is definitely one of the bright spots they left on the world.</p>
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